An Idiot with a Box
by catkid3
Summary: When a troubled Australian is visited by a mysterious man with a blue box, little does she know that her misery will soon be a distant memory. (A collection of one/two shots featuring the Tenth Doctor and an original companion).
1. One - The Meeting

**One**

The Meeting

"Crap."

I begin to run, my heavy school bag flying up and down violently. The wind nips at my skirt, threatening to lift it up and expose underneath, though luckily my blazer is long enough to hide it.

The footsteps behind me don't stop. In fact, they quicken.

Terror claws at me, ripping my heart to shreds; to the point where I want to scream. But my school is so close now; there's no point in trying.

"Get back here, you!" The person behind me hisses. I manage to work out that my pursuer is a man, and from what I can tell he sounds English.

I turn my head and get a good look at the man. He's fairly tall but has a skinny frame, with short blonde hair and a light beard. The lavish black business suit he wears doesn't improve my opinion of him in the slightest.

I continue to run, the school gates appearing in my line of sight. Even though I've only been running for half a minute I'm already exhausted.

As I reach the front of the school I begin to scream; "Help!" is all I get out before the man thrusts his arm around my throat and begins to choke me.

"You shut up," He hisses, fiddling with something in his pocket.

A few of my classmates walk out from the nearby toilet block, almost screaming in terror when they see me. They turn and head for the main office building, shouting at everyone to get inside.

The man curses. "Well that cuts my plan off a bit."

He pulls out what looks like a thin, silver stick and presses one of the many buttons on its 'handle'. A small green light appears from one end, buzzing horrifically loud in my ear.

A piece of music begins to play over the loudspeakers, prompting everyone to rush inside. I recognise it as the instrumental to 'Amazing Grace'; a fitting lockdown code for a Christian school.

The man curses again and marches me forward into the courtyard of the school, throwing my bag onto the concrete. I cringe as I hear the Science project I've spent three weeks working on smash inside.

"Ha!" The man shouts sarcastically, somehow using his green device as a microphone. "So you wanna play it like that, huh? Hide inside and let me have this girl all to myself? Wow, you Aussies are so nice. Really, I mean it; I'm crying with happiness."

He laughs before glaring inside the closest classroom, the students under the desks inside cowering, looking on in fear. The silver stick he holds glows again; snickering, he points it at my head.

"Alright. Here's the deal; let me take the girl and I'll reward you all with whatever you want," The man shouts threateningly.

No one answers. I can feel myself beginning to succumb to my terror; I bite my lip to hide my cries as the man laughs again.

"So you really don't seem to care about her? Hey, that's great. Makes this a whole lot easier," The man says loudly. He begins to back me away, heading towards the school gates.

"Okay. So maybe I won't reward you all; I'm not that rich anyway," He shouts. "I'll just take the girl then, 'kay? Great, thank you!"

Before I can react, my captor turns and throws me over his shoulder. Ignoring my attempts to escape, he turns and begins to sprint, heading back the same way I'd come to school.

"Let me go!" I scream, punching the man as hard as I could. Nothing I do seems to affect him; he almost seems like he's Superman or something.

The man reaches the end of the street, only panting slightly. He curses when the sound of sirens begins to grow louder, turns left and starts running down a lane of houses. And yet I continue to scream, with no one to hear me.

"You're...certainly...a fighter," The man says in between breaths sarcastically. "Trust me, I'm..trying to...help-"

He drifts off as a police car comes swerving around the corner, heading towards us. I can't see it, but I'm positive there's at least two behind the man as well.

Ignoring every road rule in existence, the cop car in front of us drives up onto the pavement and parks in the drain gutter. Two police jump out and run towards us, screaming at my captor to stop.

The man stops and turns right, running across the road and narrowly dodging another car, whose bumper bar smashes into a nearby gumtree.

Suddenly, the man drops me and falls to the ground, almost landing on top of me. My head hits something, its edges quite sharp. A burst of pain swiftly erupts; I pull on my hair in agony. Blood begins to spill onto the pavement, forming a slick puddle that shines in the daylight. I can't tell if it's the man's or mine.

A couple of people pick me up and carry me over the road to one of the police cars. One cop is putting her gun away and hurries to the man, telling the other officers to fire if he tries anything.

The world spins rapidly as I'm set down on the grass, still wet with condensation. I touch the side of my face and pull my hand away, the tips of my fingers sparkling with drops of blood.

"Are you okay, miss?" One of the cops says to me. She pulls out a bottle of water and - after yelling for someone to call an ambulance - starts to wipe away the blood on my face.

The second the cool liquid touches my face I curse. "Oh that stings!"

My head hurts. And bad. The pounding just won't stop. Despite having my glasses on my vision blurs considerably. The world spins and I start to feel sick. I didn't even care about being polite when the paramedics arrived and I think they noticed; they let me collapse on a stretcher and give me a bunch of painkillers, which were gladly accepted, to say the least.

It must be close to lunch by the time I feel stable enough to sit up again. I touch the side of my head and feel the fabric of a waterproof bandage, soaking up the remaining blood.

The police take their sweet time questioning me; they wanted to know every little detail, from what time I got off the bus this morning to if my phone had 'magically' recorded anything the man said before the attack.

At two thirty I'm allowed to eat my lunch - never has a Vegemite sandwich tasted this good to me before. School is canceled for the rest of the day; as I walk away from the ambulance I notice huge groups of students hanging around an empty bus bay. They'll be there for a while, as our buses don't arrive until three o'clock.

As I start the half hour walk home, my thoughts are all but organised. So many things begin to form, so many 'what if's. What if I hadn't reached the school in time? What if I'd left home later this morning?

"What if he had managed to get away with me?" I whisper, shuddering slightly.

"Well that is something you luckily don't have to worry about."

I jump and am thinking about running for my life when the stranger speaks again. "Hey, relax! I'm not goin to kill you or do anything."

A tall, stick-like man strolls up to me, his hands tucked deeply into the pockets of his impractically-long coat. Unlike my would-be kidnapper, this man has scruffy brown hair and dark eyes, which seems to give off some sort of 'kind aroma'. He doesn't look like he wants to kill me, so maybe I can at least respond to him.

The man stops directly in front of me and fixes his unkept tie. It somehow managed to stay as messy as before. "They take him away alright?"

I nod. "Shot him. Not like I'd care though."

"Seemed like that was his first time doing that," The man says. "I mean, come on; if you're going to kidnap someone, don't march into a crowded place and tell everyone you're going to do it. That ruins the surprise."

I can't help but give a small smile.

"Do you think you'll be okay to walk home?" The man starts to walk away, but stops and swerves around on the spot. "No. No of course not. You wouldn't be, not after that. Never mind, forget that plan; I'll come with you."

"Sir, I appreciate your concern, but there's really no need." I say. "Just talking to me has been enough, and I don't want to take you away from-"

"Oh, please, it'd be my pleasure. And besides, I had no other plans for the day. Well, that is stretching the truth - is that the right saying? - but no matter. It can wait." The man smiles again. "Come on! Allons-y!"

I raise an eyebrow as the man skips along the footpath, catching up to me in a matter of seconds. He has this youthful air about him; I start to wonder how old he is. Maybe early twenties, but he acts like such an innocent child.

I turn away from my thoughts as the man speaks again. "You know, you've got the most interesting stuff around here. Like, look at this!" He stops and points at what I consider to be just another tree. "A gumtree, just outside a person's house! Incredible!"

"..Don't they have trees where you're from?"

"Yes. Wait. No." The man contradicts himself several times before kicking a rock at a nearby magpie, who promptly fled the empty McDonald's bag it was searching, "It's, uh, complicated. Honestly though, you've literally got - oh, what do you call 'em again? Ah! Kangaroos! - at your front door around here! Absolutely amazing."

I don't have the heart to tell him that there aren't any kangaroos in these suburbs, so instead I ask, "You ever been here before?"

"Oh. Yeah, I-I guess," The man stutters, scratching his head. He starts muttering to himself. "This was one of the most beautiful parts of the country-"

I stop and look at him, waiting for the realisation of what he just said to sink in. He

"I thought you'd never been here, huh?" I ask slyly. "I've been livin here all my life and..sir?"

The man hisses in a breath and fiddles with a button on his coat. I hear him curse to himself. "Look, I hope that doesn't sound too out-there, but-"

Out of the corner of my eye I notice a few students from my school walking towards us, some of them giving us strange looks. But when I recognise who they are, I start to panic. No, no, no, they can't do it now; not with this guy around.

Turning around I begin to walk faster, ignoring the man's protests. The sound of footsteps tells me he's following me; I hope that doesn't give the others any ideas.

"Where are you going?!" The man says for the fifth time, clearly sounding exasperated. I continue to ignore him until we reach the end of the street and turn the corner, thanking for the large fence that blocks our view of the students. Loud shouts confirm my suspicions; they think I'm trying to avoiding them.

Great.

"Follow me," I tell him, sprinting further down the footpath. He doesn't answer me, but obediently follows along with everything I do.

Once we're about a k up the road, I jump over a short fence and into a bunch of bushes, the man almost falling on top of me.

"What are you do-" He starts to ask, but when I hear the same shouts from before I put my hand over his mouth, leaving him to grumble in protest.

From inside the bush I can still see a bit of the outside world, but not much through the thick green leaves. This is one of those times where I really could use Harry Potter's invisibility cloak; my skin has already been scratched to pieces by some prickles.

A few seconds later the same kids from before stop in front of our bush, clearly confused as to my whereabouts. The man attempts to make a noise, but I continue to shush him.

One of the taller boys in the group throws his hands up and sighs. "Well, I dunno where the hell she is. Maybe that was a relative or somethin'."

"That's rubbish, Mark! He looked nothing like her; I say she's being raped as we speak." A girl with short black hair pipes up.

"Yeah? Well your mum looks nothing like you - she's not a fat, nerdy pumpkin!"

All of the other group members laugh and cry out at Mark's epic burn. It takes all my willpower not to snigger at that remark. It is true, though; poor Lucy's mum is, according to schoolyard rumour, a size six. And yet Lucy is apparently an eighteen.

"Mate, that's not cool. Not cool man," Another boy says, shaking his head.

"Darren, just shut up, will you?" Mark snaps. He throws his hands up. "Let's just go; I give up. We'll get 'er tomorrow."

Mark leads the group back the way they came, the familiar sounds of cursing and laughter fading away into the afternoon air.

I wait for at least a minute to make sure they're gone before taking my hand away from the man. We help each other out of the bush and brush away the leaves that had fallen into our hair.

The man fixes his tie again and gives me a confused look. "What was that for?"

"Look, don't get mad at me. They would've beaten the crap outta you, especially after what happened this morning," I say defensively.

Obviously still miffed, the man bounces up and down on his toes. "Friends of yours?"

I shake my head. "Not in a million years. They hate almost everyone and everyone hates them; win-win for all of us."

The man nods understandingly. "Hmm. They don't seem to be the nicest chaps."

"Sure aren't."

"Something tells me they have a thing against you." The man proposes, picking a daisy from the grass next to the road. "Do they..bully you?"

I gaze down at the concrete, trying to avoid answering the question. But the feeling of knowing the man is still staring at me gets to me. "In a way, yes-"

"Why do they? They just don't like you or what?"

"It's a really long story," I say honestly.

The man takes off his coat and lays it on the ground. He sits on part of it and pats the ground next to him. "I think we can spare the time for it."

I nod and take off my bag, sliding in next to the man. Still can't believe I haven't asked what his name is yet and here I am telling him part of my life story.

"Few years back Lucy and I became best friends," I start off. "We absolutely loved being with each other. She let me cry when I had a bad night with my parents and I listened to her rant on about different parts of life."

I take out my ponytail and place the hair tie around my wrist, letting my hair fall to my shoulder blades. "Well, stuff happened and we had a falling out; it was her fault it happened, not mine. We kinda hated each other's guts for the next few years. Somehow she ended up in that group of 'friends' and I'm all alone."

The man nods casually. "So it's just a classic case of huma-sorry, teenage girl problems."

"Exactly." I undo my top button and start to loosen my tie. "How I hate wearing this."

"Is that what you think?!" The man says suddenly.

I jump in surprise. "Wait-"

"I happen to like my tie, thank you!" The man protests. "At least I not wearing, you know; oh, what do you call them? 'Gangster pants' or somethin'."

I can't help it; I start laughing. "It's gangsta pants-"

"Yeah, well, close enough," The man grumbles.

"What I meant was that I don't think ties suit girls," I explain. "But I do like your tie, just sayin'."

The man smiles his thanks. He jumps up and dusts himself off before proclaiming, "Well then! Shall we continue onwards?"

He extends his hand towards me in a very gentleman-y way. This makes me grin as I pull myself up. "I say we go for it."

"Excellent!" The man jumps on the spot as I pick up my bag and swing it over my shoulder. What remains of my Science project rattles around inside; hope my teacher isn't too angry at me.

We continue our walk down the road, passing by never-ending traffic and the occasional cyclist. As the man blabbers on to me, every now and then I gently nudge him around a pile of lives or make sure he doesn't step on a galah. He seems to be very passionate about what he's talking about. And I see he's still got that daisy in his front coat pocket.

Eventually the man's rant comes back to me. "So, what's your name, my dear? It just came to me that I don't know that yet."

"Dakota Vigil," I say. "Though everyone calls me either 'Emo' or 'That Loser With No Friends'."

The man frowns to himself. "Hmm. Dakota. Interesting. Never known a Dakota before. Known a Sarah and a Jo, but no Dakota."

"They friends of yours?"

"Yes. Well, kind of. Some ask if they were more than that, but I have to tell them no," The man says softly.

"That's gotta suck," I tell him.

He nods sadly and looks up at the sky. "Well, I mean I didn't think of them anything other than friends, but...there was..."

The man stops walking and shakes his head before smiling. "You know what, it's too complicated. Let's just keep going."

"What happened?" I ask, stepping over a pile of twigs.

The man is silent for a few seconds, but eventually replies, "She got...taken away from me..."

I notice a few tears slipping down the man's face, though he quickly wipes them away. Overwhelming compassion forces me to put my arm around his shoulder, though despite myself being fairly tall I have to slightly stand on my toes to reach.

"I'm sorry," I say as soothingly as I can. I'm not good with this comforting sort of thing; it's been a long time since I've had to do anything like this.

The man continues to walk onwards, his expression unchanged. "It's alright, don't apologise. It's been a while since then. Don't know why...it still hurts to think about her."

I can myself wanting to tear up, but like the man I force it away. It seems both of us are quite good at doing that.

"Anyway. Enough depressing stories," The man sniffs again and smiles broadly. "What about you? What sorts of-" Stopping, the man does a small twirl, "-stories do you have?"

I shrug. "All of my stories involve depression."

"Oh, come on. There has to be something in there-"

"Nah, I'm serious!" I protest. "I'm not the cheeriest person on the planet."

"There has to be some sort of happy-ish story floating around inside that head!" The man presses on. "Everyone has a story to tell, and I want to hear yours."

Before I can anything, the man stops walking and moves to stand in my way, still grinning. He's doing that a lot, to be honest.

"In fact, I'm stopping this expedition until you tell me something 'bout yourself," The man pokes me on the shoulder. I groan and chuckle for a bit.

"Alright, alright. Mate, you're very persistent." I push my glasses back up my nose. "I've got no mum, Dad hates me and my brother Liam, and I've got nothing to live for. What else would you like to know?"

The man stops smiling. He tilts his head slightly before putting his hands on the sides of my face, his expression emotionless. I'm about to ask him what he's doing when it happens; images and memories appear in some sort of line at the front of my mind, some being 'tossed' aside. I think the man is looking for something I don't want to tell him.

I can't move or speak. All I can see is all of my memories being sorted through by the man, who opposite me with his eyes closed, as though he's in very deep thought.

The man quickly scans through a few memories, including ones I don't even remember, such as my birth. To my surprise I hear him comment in my mind; _Hmm. Caesarean. Very interesting. Haven't seen one of those for a while._

He also looks at one of my favourite memories; the first time I told my crush I liked him. I can feel butterflies going through my stomach as I re watch it, prompting the man to say, Your dopamine level just increased - by a lot, I should think. Is that normal?

 _Sir_ , I reply, _I'm_ _a_ _teenage_ _girl_ _who_ _has_ _a_ _crush_. _Of_ _course_ _that's_ _normal_.

Eventually a select few memories are pulled out to the front of the 'line', each being 'selected' one at a time. My happy feelings vanish quickly. I want to cry when I realise which ones the man wants to look at; I mentally scream out to him to stop, but he doesn't.

The first memory starts to play. I remember when this one was - pretty sure it was 2013, to be exact. I'm sitting outside one of the classrooms in primary school, staring at the cold wooden deck. _Wow, did my hair really look like that? A bob and fringe makes me look like I'm ten._

Lucy comes up to me, her face calm and blank. I feel a tear slip down my cheek when I realise what she's about to say.

"Dakota, this isn't working out." Lucy tells me. "Maybe we just shouldn't be friends anymore."

I watch the rest of the memory unfold quite rapidly; like someone was pressing the fast forward button. The memory version of me begins to cry and shout in protest at Lucy, who nonchalantly walks away. I run through the playground towards my mother, who envelops me in an enormous hug as the first bell of the day rings in the background.

The memories that follow are even worse. I watch in desperation as I have to relive going to my mother's bedside at the hospital as she finally succumbed to brain cancer. Giving my speech at the funeral. Dad beating me with a stick, all because I hadn't achieved a high mark on my Maths test.

I watch as the friends I made after Lucy slowly drift away and turn on me. The teachers who I thought cared about me start to become nasty towards me. Sitting through countless detentions because of my breakdowns. Eventually the man arrives at the last memory he pulled out. The one I hoped to never see again.

 _Stop,_ I plead. _Please sir, stop it._

To my surprise, I hear a response. I'm trying.

The memory starts to play back. A woman is sitting in the old timber kitchen in our house, the lights all off, except for a single candle she lights. She's crying into dirty hands, a pen and piece of paper with blue writing next to her.

No. _Please, please don't make me watch._

Screaming in horror, I use all of my strength to push the memory away and the world around me snaps back into focus. I stumble backwards from the man, who's standing there in a state of shock. My cheeks are drenched in tears; I didn't realise I was crying till now. I'm shaking with anger, my fists clenched so hard that my nails are cutting into my palms.

The man goes to speak, but I angrily cut him off, glaring as hard as I could.

"Get away from me."

"Look, I'm sorry, but-"

"I don't care if you apologise or not!" I scream. "What did you do?!"

The man gives me a surprised look. "What?"

"I mean, how'd you do that? Like, dive into my mind?" I ask, forcing myself to calm down.

The man's mouth opens and closes, unsure what to say. "Uh.."

He looks around us before grabbing my arm and sprinting back towards the school, oblivious to my protests. I don't know how he has this much energy; it's a good couple of k's from where we were to the school and is a long way to run.

Some way or another we ended up back at the place we first met, my chest absolutely heaving for breath. But the man doesn't stop; he pulls me down another street and crashes through someone's front garden before arriving at an old park. He lets me go and starts to run through the trees, shouting out to me. "Hurry up! Allons-y!"

After stomping my way through piles of twigs and nearly being swooped by a pissed magpie, I stop to catch my breath - wow, am I unfit - only to lose it again when I see what's in front of me.

The man is standing next to a large blue box - it must be just under half a meter taller than him - with a collection of words printed in white text all over it; I catch sight of 'PUBLIC CALL' and 'POLICE BOX'.

What the box has in height it doesn't make up for in width. The thing itself is tiny; maybe a couple of phone booths wide, but otherwise it's quite a cute size.

"What'dya think?" The man beams at me, walking around the box as he talked. "Quite fond of her, actually. Been incredibly useful; oh, you have no idea!"

I still can't breathe properly, so I just walk over and give the man my best 'What-is-that-thing' face. His eyes light up and he comes over to me.

"It's called a Tardis," He explains casually, as though this sounded completely normal. "Travels through time and space and, well, has helped me save the universe countless times. Would you like to come in? Oh, yes; I can show you what I found in Russia yesterday - a piece of an ancient meteorite!"

Finally my breath came back to me, but I only uttered, "What?"

The man's face fell, but quickly went back to being excited. "Come on! She doesn't bite! Well, to be honest, I don't know if she can or not-"

I ignore him and push the door open, quickly wiping my filthy glasses on my shirt. I put them back on and almost faint in shock.

The inside of this 'Tardis' is alarmingly huge, with a strangely-shaped control desk and enormous vertical blue pipe in the centre of the room. The steep, orange walls rise up like the inside of a circus tent, forming a small point at the top. Not sure what sort of metal the floor is made of, but it reminds me of the grate covers that are placed on top of drains.

The man closes the door behind me and marches to the centre of the room, still beaming with happiness. "Amazing, isn't it?"

All I can do is nod. "Ditto...incredible. Small on the outside and-"

"Bigger on the inside," The man finishes, doing a small dance. "Oh, I NEVER get tired of hearing people say that! It's so much fun!"

While I continue to gape on around the inside, the man does a quick dance on the spot before rushing over the control panels. He presses a few buttons and pulls a lever, causing some sort of pump inside the blue pipe to press up and down. Sudden loud hisses give me a slight jump scare, snapping me out of my daydream.

"Right then, Dakota!" The man shouts over the noise, rushing from one panel to the next. "Where would you like to go?"

I run over him in a state of confusion. "What?"

The man looks up, looking slightly annoyed. "Well, this is a time machine after all. So where would you like to go? The Stone Age? Ten sixty-six? Ooh, I know; Bondi Beach, fifteen eighty-five. Absolutely beautiful. And even better with none of those pesky surfers around-"

Another loud hiss interrupts the man, prompting him to run over to yet another control panel. "Well, hurry up and tell me; we haven't got all day!"

"Surprise me," I say hurriedly, instantly regretting it. Who knows where he'll take me..

The man beams, sprints across the room to hit more buttons and rushes back to the main control panel. "Well then! I'm in a Victorian mood today; how does nineteenth century London sound?"

He picks up my hand and motions for me to pull another lever. I do so gleefully, replying in my horrible English accent, "Absolutely delightful."

The man grins. "Brilliant. Allons-y, then!"

He pulls another lever and I'm nearly thrown to the floor as the box takes off into flight, swerving around for a few seconds before stabilising. My school bag goes flying past me my feet and through a set of doors on the other side of the room; hope my iPad is okay in there.

"Sorry, sir," I yell, hoping he can hear me over the loud roar of (what I presume to be) the engines, "but I didn't catch your name earlier."

The man glances at me, slamming a few buttons down as he goes. "I'm the Doctor."

"Just the Doctor?"

"Just the Doctor."

I laugh as I grip onto the panel, stopping myself from falling as the Tardis rockets upwards. I thought taking off in a plane was exhilarating, but this surpasses that by a long way. "Nice to meet you, Doctor."

The Doctor returns my smile as the Tardis stabilises again, settling down with a gentle thump.

I let go of the control panel and wipe down my glasses again. The Doctor claps his hands together before rushing to poke his head out of the Tardis. "Aha! Exactly where I wanted. London, eighteen fifty eight. For once you got us to the right place, old girl," The Doctor pats the door of the Tardis gratefully.

"What's happening right now?" I ask curiously.

The Doctor sticks his head out again. "If I'm right - and I usually am - we should be witnesses to the birth of Big Ben's bell."

As if on cue, my Fit Bit beeps wildly, showing the time as ten o'clock.

"Ah. You'll have to leave that here, I'm afraid. I know the Victorians are no strangers to new technology, but that's well ahead of its time." The Doctor tells me.

"Well I'm not stupid enough not to, aren't I?"

He shuts the doors and runs through the other set of doors, emerging a few seconds later with a pile of clothes. Dumping half of them at my feet, he turns to head back through the same set of doors. "Well you can't exactly go out wearing that, now can you?"

I look down at my uniform. A navy knee-length skirt and tights, baggy white shirt and a woollen blazer don't exactly fit my description of 'Victorian'.

Once the Doctor has left, I bend down and pick up the clothes at my feet. To my annoyance, he's picked out a forest green long-sleeved dress, with black gloves, a corset, heeled boots and numerous hair ties for me to wear.

The dress is two sizes too small, with the corset almost choking me to death the second I strap it up. I don't know what material its made out of, but I do quite like the feeling of this dress. Sure, it's heavy and has stupid white frills on the ends of the sleeves, but otherwise it looks quite fashionable for a Victorian lady.

I'm lacing up the boots by the time the Doctor walks back in. He's dressed in almost the same outfit as before, only he's changed to a black coat, white shirt and leather shoes, as well as a black bow tie. He even went and got himself a top hat, the smart alec.

"Don't you look fabulous," I say, standing up straight to put my glasses back on. "Are these okay to wear? Otherwise I'll pretty much be blind."

The Doctor frowns before nodding. "Don't think they'll notice the Ray Bans logo, but just be careful."

I throw my head forward, sending my hair flying past my face. I pull it back into a ponytail and put it up into the nicest bun I can manage; why I'm hopeless with hair, I honestly don't know, but it'll do for now.

Skipping towards the door, the Doctor holds it open for me to walk through into the outside world. We've landed in what looks like an old factory, the loud sounds of machinery piercing my sensitive eardrums. It's almost entirely made out of metal or wood, with the only light source being a few gas lamps.

I shiver in the cold. This dress sure isn't keeping me warm.

The Doctor leads the way, navigating his way through the twists and turns of the factory. There is almost nothing colourful in this place. The walls are grey, the floorboards are rotting, the lights are extremely dim; it's the perfect place for a punk band to do a photo shoot.

We come across an exit, though when the Doctor tried to open the door it's revealed to be locked. He doesn't curse or anything; very calmly he pulls out a thin, silver stick and flashes it at the door handle, emitting a strange buzzing noise and blue light.

"The guy who tried to kidnap me had one of those," I tell the Doctor, who opens the door with ease. "What exactly is it?"

"A sonic screwdriver. Does a lot of different things, though I can't remember exactly all of them," The Doctor holds the door open for me, closing and locking it behind us. "Anyway, welcome to Victorian London!"

We walk out of the alleyway the exit led us to and out onto the main street. I'm surprised to see no cars, but instead horses and carts going up and down the road; if you could call it a road in these days. A few people walk up and down the shops across the road from us, all dressed in heavy-looking clothing. Like myself, all of the women are in long, dark-coloured dresses. Some are obviously showing that they're wearing a corset underneath, making me feel extremely fat compared to them.

"Where to first?" I ask quietly.

He looks around and fiddles with a button on his coat. "I do feel like a drink myself, so how about a local pub?"

"Is that safe for someone like me?" I tell him. "I would like to avoid being abducted twice in one day, just sayin'."

"Of course. Perfectly safe. Just don't wander off, don't ask stupid questions and certainly don't walk into any alleyways; no one knows who Jack the Ripper is, even now," The Doctor says. "Oh, and if I tell you to run, just do it."

He takes off down the street, weaving in and out of the crowds of people. It's hard to keep up with him because of my heavy dress, so I try to walk as quickly as I can without looking like I'm trying to run.

Eventually the Doctor comes to a stop outside a small building on Fleet Street, the sign above the door reading 'Ye Olde Chesire Cheese'.

I manage to grab onto the Doctor's jacket before he goes inside and pull him to the side of the door. "This is a pub?"

"Well it's certainly not a cheese shop, now is it?" The Doctor retorts sarcastically. He straightens his bow tie before whispering in my ear, "I reckon it's one of the best pubs in Britain, mind you."

He grabs my hand and leads me inside, the mouth-watering smell of foods I don't recognise hitting me instantly. The pub mostly has men inside, chatting away with their meals, but I have spotted a woman here and there. No one looks as young as me, though; I wonder if even now teenagers weren't allowed in places like this.

The Doctor guides me to a small table towards the back of the room, grunting almost continuously "Excuse me" and "Pardon me" to every person who happened to be in our way.

I gracefully flop down into a seat, my sore legs and feet screaming out in relief. As secretively as possible, I loosen the laces of my shoes.

"How did people wear these things, Doctor?" I ponder, massaging my foot. "It's barely been half an hour and I already want to feed them to a shark."

"I literally don't know, to be honest," The Doctor says, pushing his chair back in. "Always despised that sort of footwear. No wonder women in the future'll complain of sore backs. Anyway, do you want anything to drink? I'll go and grab something for us."

"If it's not disgusting, just some water thanks." I reply gratefully.

The Doctor disappears back into the crowd of people, leaving me to my own devices. Since I don't know how a proper Victorian talks, I keep my eyes down and try to avoid any sort of conversation to not give myself away.

Without warning, a loud thump comes from somewhere. At first, when I turn around all I see is a wall and an archway opening, but the noise presses on; of course it must be coming from upstairs.

I get up from my chair and silently step through the archway, slipping away from the crowd undetected. There's nothing back here except for a few barrels and a staircase, with a dying lamp as the only source of light.

As quietly as I can in these stupid heels, I tip toe my way up the stairs, cringing every time it squeaks or creaks. I'm almost the at the top when a voice startles me, so I settle for a few steps further down and begin to listen.

"You're being unreasonable, Cran. All I'm asking for is a little bit of money. Six hundred pounds is hardly anything to someone as rich as you."

That's definitely a man's voice. But six hundred pounds? I have no clue how much a pound is worth, but that sounds like a lot of money.

"I refuse to give scum like you any sort of payment unless there's something in it for me," The man who I presume to be Cran answers stiffly.

"Hey, look. Let money do the talkin' instead. So how 'bout it?" The first man presses on. "Six hundred pounds. And in return, you get to help me with the one of the greatest crimes committed in history."

Cran gets up and starts to pace slowly. "What sort, Michael?"

"Ooh, it's a good one! Real good. Not like other ones. This one's actually good."

"Just tell me what it is; I have an appointment in fifteen minutes."

"Alright, alright," Michael reluctantly says. "I got contacted by this organisation a few weeks ago. They promised me a good reward if I help them, so I've been helping to build a weapon that is..quite different, to say the least. I'll need more money if I am to finish it, though."

I can hear Cran sighing. "And if I gave you this money, what's in it for me?"

"That part I haven't worked out yet," Michael says truthfully, "but I'm sure a great mind such as yourself could help me figure it out."

Cran smirks and gives Michael a pat on the back. "Alright then. We'll meet to settle the details tonight at my house."

"Pleasure doing business with you, Mr Cranberi."

The two men shake hands, prompting me to hurry down the stairs and back to my table, where the Doctor was patiently sitting, eating his lunch.

"What'd I tell you? Don't wander off!" The Doctor says, taking in a mouthful of food. He swallows before continuing. "Honestly, I just want to have one companion who doesn't-"

"Shut up and listen," I say quietly. "There are two men who are about to come downstairs that I think are trying to be the Victorian equivalent of terrorists."

He gives me a surprised look, but continues eating. As though as they'd heard me, the footsteps of two men approach from behind. Out of the corner of my eye I take note of their appearances as they walk past; one is short with black hair and a beard, the other fairly skinny, with short blonde hair and a top hat.

"Was that them?" The Doctor asks when they're out of earshot.

I nod in reply. "Don't know who was who, but they were discussing funding for this new weapon one of 'em was creating."

The Doctor hurriedly finishes his mouthful. "Did they say what it'd do?"

"Nah. Said they'll discuss it at their place tonight."

I pick up my glass of water and take a quick swig, not caring how unladylike it looked to others. "Is there anything in the history books that says they should be doing this? I don't remember reading about anything like this in class."

The Doctor shakes his head. "Doesn't sound right. To be completely honest though, I've never been to this particular year. But," He proclaims, taking a final bite of food, "it sounds like something we should keep an eye on."

We don't discuss it any further as I eat, instead observing the world around us. I notice that only a few people use some sort of slang here; almost everyone else 'speaks properly'. If only people would do that back home..

Once I finish my meal, the Doctor pays and we head back to the Tardis for a bit of (as he called it) 'brain-thinking time'. To my absolute relief, I'm now able to loosen this corset and actually breathe for a bit.

"So what'd you think so far?" The Doctor asks eagerly. "Always loved the Victorian era. You humans came along so far then. Absolutely brilliant."

"I think it's amazin'!" I tell him. "So many new clothes, new people; it's like a whole other world."

"Yes, well, I've heard others say things quite similar to that," The Doctor laughs. "Never get tired of it in the slightest."

I laugh. "You must really enjoy being a time traveler, don't you?"

"Oh yes. Best fun anyone could ever have, I'll say," The Doctor admits, taking off his bow tie. He throws it across the room and takes my hand. "But there's something else I haven't shown you yet."

I start laughing as he glides across the room towards the second set of doors, taking my arm and the rest of me with him. He pushes them open and leads me through, saying, "And you thought that room was big!"

In front of us is an impossibly long corridor, with different coloured doors along each side. Yes, the roof isn't that high this time, but it's still a pretty long way up.

"Wow," is all I can get out.

He can't stop laughing at my reaction, doubling over and holding onto one of the door handles. "..That's probably the best one I've had..for a while.."

Still cracking himself to pieces, he stands upright and starts off down the corridor. "Alright. Enough excitement. Allons-y!"

He shoots off and practically skips down the corridor, talking to me as he goes. "Now that red door on the left I'm pretty sure leads to the library slash swimming pool, but then again everything got reshuffled last Thursday so that might now go to the zero room, but honestly I don't know.

"That blue door coming up now on the right? If you ever need me, that's my room. And oh look - there's Rose's old room. Brilliant. You kept it, old girl," He pats the wall of the Tardis and turns around to look at me. "She used to travel with me, by the way."

I nod, still taking it all in. "And every door leads to a different room?"

"Oh yes," He says excitedly. "I love it when it all gets switched up; makes even going to get food an adventure."

"Wait, 'switched up'?"

"Yeah. The Tardis is a living thing, mind you, so sometimes it does a little bit of 'rearranging' for me. Usually it's not a problem, but occasionally I can end up looking for a room that happened to be in the same place and I didn't notice," The Doctor explains. "Who knows? Maybe you'll be chasing after your room one day, though that is up to you..

He breaks off and dashes back to the main part of the ship, with me jogging after him. What does this man eat? He's like an alien version of The Flash!

"Wait!" I shout, running after him. "Aren't we going to do anything about that weapon thing?"

"Yes. No. Hang on." The Doctor says, contradicting himself. "I don't know yet. I need to find out more before we can go any further."

"What's your plan?"

"Lay low for now. There is a possibility that they could've seen us discussing it; it'll be safer if we stay here until later."

"Alright then," I say confidently. I further loosen the laces at the back of my dress, take out my bun and let my hair flow back to my shoulders. "I hate this corset."

The Doctor smiles. "Well, I don't see how they're comfortable in any form. You humans have had some interesting fashion choices over the years; just wait till you see what you wear in twenty years time. Absolutely. Hideous."

He puts full dramatic effect into his speech, making me smirk.

"Have you seen some of the clothes people my age wear?" I tell him. "I swear, some of them look like they crawled straight from the gutters."

The Doctor starts laughing, promptly undoing his bowtie and throwing it around the room. "I can't say us Time Lords do any better."

"Is that what you are?" I ask slyly, crossing my arms. "I thought you weren't human, but I've never heard of a Time Lord."

The Doctor sighs heavily, but gives me a slight smile. I swear I can see a tear in his eye. "That's because I'm the only one left."

"What? Why?" I ask in surprise, my eyes following him as he strolls around the room.

"..It's complicated."

"Oh come on. It can't be more complicated than the plot of Game of Thrones."

He stops walking and lifts his eyebrow, clearly amused. "You have the most amazing sense of humour, you know. Not as good as-"

"Seriously?" I undo the laces of my boots and kick them off. "People back home tell me to stop snarking so much."

"Well then," He says, "I hereby approve this 'snarking', so long as it's funny."

I smirk. "Yes, your lordship."

"Molto bene," The Doctor says happily. "Well, I'm glad that's settled."

"Hey, um, can I go get changed somewhere? Please?" I ask shyly. "I refuse to spend one more minute in this dress."

The Doctor thinks for a moment. "Go down the hall and through the first pink door on the left. I have a feeling the Tardis has made room for you."

"You can talk to your ship?"

He gives me a casual look. "Oh yes. She's practically my best friend. Aren't you?"

To my shock, the Tardis makes a faint but audible groaning noise, causing the Doctor to smile.

"I think she likes you." He explains.

I nod slowly and start to head out of the room. "Well I thought this whole time-travelling thing was weird. I wonder what was in that meal the pub gave me."

Shutting the door leading into the hallway, I catch glimpses of the Doctor laughing quietly. It makes me feel good knowing that someone appreciates my humour. It's been a long time since that's happened.

Following the Doctor's instructions, I make my way down the hall until I come across a wooden pink door. I nearly have a heart attack when I open it, for it is an exact replica of my room from home.

The mint green bedspread; the cream wall next to the bed; even my pink and white rubbish bins on my desk are there. Tears of joy and surprise run down my cheek as I drop everything and walk inside.

I rush over and open the wardrobe; all of my clothes, including my countless coloured hoodies, are hung up the exact way I remember them being this morning.

"How are they real, though?" I ask, reaching out to grab a hoodie, it feeling very much soft in my fingertips.

My desk is still as messy as before, with three packets of chips, useless scraps of paper and countless mint containers spread all over it. The only thing that isn't there is my school bag, which I remember is still in the main control room.

I gently touch the nearby wall. "How?"

The Tardis groans in reply, but I have a feeling it already knows I can't understand it. Another tear slips down, landing on my dress.

"Thank you," I say gratefully, feeling the pleasant groan of a reply beneath my fingertips.

I undo the remaining laces and slide out of the dress, letting it crumple into a heap on my floor. Throwing off the corset and remaining undergarments, I throw open the wardrobe and survey my choice of clothes, picking a comfy hoodie and some trackies.

Eventually I flop backwards onto the bed, hearing the familiar squeak of the frame as I sink into the mattress, the soft pillow beneath my head. Somehow the bed is still warm; can the Tardis replicate feelings of touch, too?

Pushing aside my worries, I don't even realise how tired I am until I fall asleep.

I don't know how long it's been or what time it is when I wake up, but what I do know if that I feel horrendous. Like something has been sucked out of me, draining me of any energy I had left.

Ignoring this zombie-like feeling, I head out into the main control room, embarrassed at the big yawn I give when I say, "Hey mate."

But he's not there.

I give the air a confused look before running back down the hallway, calling out for the Doctor as I go. Yet no one answers.

I sprint back to the control room, my heart fluttering in my chest. I really need to get more exercise, I think; surely that hallway isn't that long.

As I double over and try to catch my breath, I catch a glimpse of something white on the other side of the room. Upon walking over, I notice it's a note stuck on the door of the Tardis.

I rip the paper down and hurriedly read the message scrawled in messy handwriting.

 _ **Gone to find those men. Don't come after me.**_

I look up at the door, not caring about the sarcasm and anger creeping into my voice.

"That son of a witch."


	2. Two - The Meeting

**Two**

The Meeting

I've been pacing around the room for half an hour after I read the note, trying to figure out what to do.

Do I stay and wait for him?

Do I go exploring around the Tardis?

Do I drag myself back to my room and get changed to go after him?

My brain goes wild trying to process everything, eventually causing me to get lost in my thoughts, not realising until looking at my phone that I've been in the control room for two hours.

I mean, I'm starting to get worried. Shouldn't he be back by now? I don't even know how long he'd been gone for before I woke up; he could've been out for hours, for all I know.

I groan in frustration. "I give up."

Turning around, I sprint back to my room and hurriedly throw on my outfit, though this time I decide to leave the corset behind. That thing can rot. Once again I thrust my hair forward, brushing it and tying it up. I give my glasses a quick wipe on my sleeve and push back my 'fringe' with a couple of bobby pins.

I quickly observe myself in the mirror. "Why couldn't they have invented canvas shoes earlier," I wonder, heading out to the main control room.

The doors of the Tardis open automatically for me, allowing me to make my way outside the building without interruption. At first it's so dark that I can't see anything, but as I start to move down the street my eyes grow used to it. The icy wind nips at me furiously, sending chills through my body. It's really creepy out here, being so quiet and everything. How I want to have my headphones in my ears, just to fill that void of silence. I hate it.

After a few minutes I reach the pub where we had lunch. It's so much different without the laughter and cursing coming from it; sort of like my schoolyard.

As I make my way further down the street, a faint laugh creeps into my ears.I panic and duck in the doorway of a nearby building, breathing as quietly as I could. The laughter starts to get louder, which in turn causes my adrenaline to pump harder. Eventually I begin to make out the voices; it's two men, alright.

"Oh, you are a funny man, Michael. I think that's brilliant."

"What can I say? Comedy is my thing, though not so much yours."

"Come now! No need for insults!"

"It wasn't an insult - just a clever use of words! Seriously Cran, learn to appreciate humour a bit more."

The men keep quarrelling as they walk along. I peek out from my hiding place and try to make out the mens' features; one of them is a rather short, fat fellow, the other quite tall.

Damn. They're the same men from the pub.

Both Michael and Cran keep arguing, not bothering to watch their step as they walk through some interesting smelling piles of rubbish. They disappear down an alleyway, prompting me to follow them.

It's a lot darker in the sidestreet; compared to the main road, I wish I'd brought a candle or something. I keep seeing demon-like shapes in the shadows.

Following at a fair distance behind them, the men lead me through a few more alleyways before arriving at what I presume to be one of their houses. A single gas lamp lights up the darkness of the empty street, casting shadows over the men as they walk through the front door and disappear.

I creep out from a nearby doorway and tip toe over to the house. Paying no attention to how beautiful it looks, I'm about to try and find a way in when I hear the front door click.

Cursing, I think quickly and jump into a bush, just as I hear the creaking squeak of a door.

"Well, why are they here then?" Well, Cran doesn't sound angry at all. "I thought they weren't coming until tomorrow!"

"There was a..change of plan. Yes. Something came up; they had to show up ahead of schedule," Michael is trying to sound reassuring, but he's failing miserably.

"Fine. Let's continue this in the morning; I need to attend to something."

The two men shake hands. I reckon Michael is smiling as he says, "Till tomorrow, Cran."

"Good evening, Michael."

The front door clicks shut and the short man - who I now know is Michael - walks away from the house, disappearing into the murky depths of the street's darkness. I wait a couple of minutes to make sure he's gone before untangling myself from the bush.

"Of course this one had to have roses in it," I mutter quietly, pulling down my sleeves. Hope the Doctor doesn't mind a blood-stained dress.

I try opening the front door, which - to my surprise - is still open. Cringing as the hinges squeak loudly, I wriggle through the tiny gap into the house, sighing as the warmth of being indoors settles in.

The entrance to the house is quite grand. Polished floor, antique rug, a fireplace, two sets of stairs and a crystal chandelier; this feels more like a living room or parlour than a simple hallway.

Tip toeing my way across the floor, I decide to take my chances and head downstairs. My knowledge of reading mystery novels tells me this is a bad idea - who knows, Jack the Ripper might be waiting down there - but the sounds of rapidly approaching footsteps force me to make a haste decision.

I narrowly make it far enough down the stairs to avoid being seen just as a pair of shoes walks. Judging by the shininess of the black leather, I'm assuming they belong to Cran.

I begin to descend further, having massive cringe attacks each time the floor creaks. Cran really needs to get his house looked at or something.

To my surprise, at the bottom is a small wine cellar, the only source of light radiating from a few dying candles.

I cross the stone floor to one of the wine bottle racks. "Please let there be some sort of magic switch on here," I whisper, feeling along the sides and top. My fingers dance over the wood, unsuccessfully looking for a bump.

I curse quietly and slam my fist into the wall next to the wine rack. It takes me a moment to realise that the wine rack has swung inwards, revealing a secret passageway.

I pray my thanks and head through to find that the inside is very different compared to the rest of the house; there is metal everywhere, from the floor to the ceiling. A couple of bookshelves line the walls, along with a painting from some artist I probably don't know. A few sets of doors stretch out down the hallway, but I notice something odd about them.

Only one has a lock on them.

Suddenly, I hear a clanging noise. It gets louder within seconds, giving me no time to try and hide before the source appears.

It looks like a man, but it's not a man. If men were silver, wore full-body metal suits and had black holes for eyes and a mouth, then yes, it would be a man.

The 'robot' looks directly at me, a strange voice emitting from it.

"IN-TRUD-ER."

Oh wow. "Look, buddy, I don't mean to barge in, but-"

"YOU-WILL-BE-DE-LE-TED."

The creature raises its right arm and aims a fist at my face. It begins to whir and buzz rather loudly, which does not sound natural at all. I leap sideways and crash land onto the floor, the sound of some sort of bullet hitting the wall where I just was.

"So that's how you wanna play it, huh?" I taunt lamely, jumping onto my feet. I reach into one of the bookshelves and pull out a copy of 'Great Expectations', throwing it at the creature. It doesn't even make a dent in it, merely bouncing off and landing on the floor.

I bite my lip. "Right then."

The robot-thing walks forward and raises its arm again, firing another bullet. Thanks to my 'amazing' reflexes I dodge and it smashes into the bookshelf, putting a hole straight through the centre shelf. I can't do any commando rolls in this dress, so instead I crouch and try to run behind the 'man', bullets whizzing over my head.

The creature is (unfortunately) rather quick on its feet and manages to run over and force me against the wall. I can't see anything in those black spots where eyes should be.

Except maybe there is.

As fast as I can, I lean past the robot and grab a nearby candle, shoving it into one of its 'eyeholes'. The further I push it in, the more the creature begins to struggle and hiss, eventually collapsing on the floor of the hallway.

My chest is heaving with adrenaline; both palms are slick with sweat. Yet I ignore it all and head back to the door with the lock on its handle.

Whoever made the lock sure didn't do a good job; its old, rusty and broke in my hand the second I touched it. I push the door open, wiping my hands on my dress.

It takes a second to realise whose sitting in front of me, chained to a wall with a lovely bruise on his jaw.

"Doctor!"

I rush over and get a closer look at him. The poor man looks exhausted, with his clothes all rumpled and his bow tie coming undone. Apart from a few cuts and scratches (and very messy hair) he seems to be okay.

"Nice to see you too," He says, attempting to smile.

"What happened?"

"Well, long story short: you humans are just as dumb as usual, there's a Cybermen army on Earth and we're being invaded," The Doctor says. He groans. "Again. Seriously, they come all the tim-"

"Cyber-what?"

"No time to explain. My sonic screwdriver-" He starts, with me cutting him off by pulling out his precious device from his pocket. Instead of gloating I just smirk at him.

"-is in my coat," I finish. I point it at the Doctor's chains and they unlock after a few seconds. I help him to stand up as he throws off the chains, letting them crash rather loudly onto the floor. He brushes himself off and fixes his bow tie.

"Right then!" He proclaims, marching towards the door. "Allons-y!"

I give up with this man. So instead of asking where the hell we're going, I just pick up my dress and run after him.

Turns out he's leading me back to the Tardis, though on the way he explains to me what's going on.

"So I noticed you fell asleep and decided that I couldn't wait for you to get up," He starts off. "After a bit of poking around I managed to find the men you saw in the pub. Annoyingly, they found me first and decided it'd be better to tie me up and kidnap me than just leave me alone. Honestly, it just ruined my day. Unbelievable."

I can't help it. I have to start laughing. But noticing his look, I instantly feel guilty. So of course the best thing to do is shut up and let him go on.

"They dumped me in that room and were stupid enough to leave my screwdriver in my pocket. I'd just managed to cut all of the ropes when they walked in and went, 'You little bugger' and brought out the chains."

It takes all of my willpower not to snigger. "Was that Michael?"

"Yup."

"Not surprising. What are they planning exactly? Sounded something like nine eleven to me."

"The Cybermen and Michael made a deal," the Doctor says. "If Michael found a way to disarm everyone else so that the Cybermen could invade, they'd make him one of their leaders. Personally, I don't know why the hell you'd want a job like that, but hey, he's a human. Some humans are really stupid."

I make a face at him and he sighs. "Okay, maybe not all of them..but still!"

"How are they gonna invade?"

"By making sure you won't know they're coming," the Doctor says cryptically.

Now I'm getting frustrated. "Well that's not very descriptive, is it?"

Hearts beating and chests heaving for breath, we continue to run. We're halfway back to the Tardis when we hear it. A faint, metallic chorus of distorted voices that sends shivers down my spine.

"So that's how," the Doctor whispers, hurriedly turning and sprinting another way. I struggle to keep up with him. This dress sure wasn't made for marathon runners.

The darkness is slowly beginning to lift; sunrise mustn't be too far off. It does make it easier to see where we're headed; the Bell Tower.

"Why..there?" I ask in between breaths.

The Doctor has no trouble answering me. "I have a plan!"

"What? Just..run in...there..and get..killed?"

"Of course not! That's what an idiot would do." The Doctor whips around and heads down another alleyway, ignoring all of the rats that scurry away in fear. "This idiot has a much better idea."

To my relief he stops just outside the Bell Tower, gazing up at it as he tries to catch his breath. It looks beautiful in the morning sunlight, but this is no time for wistful touristy thoughts.

"Alright then, idiot," I quote. "What's this plan of yours?"

"I heard Michael talking about their plan to one of the Cybermen," He explains, running his hand through his hair. "Because human hearing is so sensitive, they wanted a way to destroy it so-"

He doesn't get to finish as another chorus of voices fills our ears, this time much louder. I still can't pick out what they're saying; it sounds clear, yet muffled at the same time.

I don't know how. It's science.

But I do know that it's coming from inside the tower.

We say nothing to each other as we sprint around the back, the Doctor leading the way. He bursts through an entrance and - after quickly glancing around - starts making his way up to the top of the tower, with multiple sets of stairs towering over us.

He has this seemingly infinite amount of energy; jumping up the stairs two at a time most of the way, his hand only lightly scraping the banister.

"So why destroy our hearing?" I ask. "That can't do any good besides make us useless."

"Exactly," the Doctor replies. "If you can't hear the enemy coming-"

"-you're basically dead," I realise grimly. "Not the good sort of 'surprise' either."

The higher up the stairs we climb, the louder the chorus of voices becomes. My adrenaline continues to pump harder and harder, the only thing that's kept me going this long.

When we reach the top we're greeted by a knock on the back of the head, sending us crumbling to the floor. Two metallic arms pick me up and force my own arms behind my back; looking around I realise the Doctor and I are being held by Cybermen.

"Wow, you are really cold," I comment.

The Cybermen force us to march forwards, my gaze landing on an enormous bell in the centre of the room. A couple of men are busy tightening knobs on it, but plenty of Cybermen are milling about, observing and placing small silver boxes around and underneath the bell.

"Ah! I see we have some guests!" Michael strolls into the room, his arms wide open. He walks up to the Doctor and slaps him across the face.

"Well I don't know how you got here," He says, gazing over at me, "but my, we do have a pretty young lady here. And your name is?"

I wait for him to come right in my face before I spit on him. "Nick off."

Out of the corners of my eye I see the Doctor is making a face at me, but I'm too busy glaring at Michael to notice. He punches me in the stomach, knocking the breath I'd just managed to catch away.

"When all of this is over," he says threateningly, "I'll make sure you and your friend get the best treatment from my associates"

"I'm crying with joy," I hiss sarcastically.

The Doctor tries to tell me to shut up, but gets slapped by Michael instead.

"Since you're here, I might as well share with you what's going on. After all, private guests get special access to information, don't they?" Michael shouts gleefully. "You see, I got contacted by thes-"

"Just tell us what you're gonna do already," I snap sarcastically.

Exasperated, the Doctor groans. "Seriously, I just want one companion who won't-"

"Keep 'im quiet, will you please?" Michael says, prompting the Cyberman holding the Doctor to put a hand over his mouth. The poor man looks beyond frustrated by this point and blatantly glares in my direction.

"Fine! Let's skip to the good bit," Michael snaps angrily. Calming himself, he motions for the Cyberman holding me to walk me over to the bell.

"These lovely chaps," Michael says, pointing to the Cybermen around us, "really needed a new planet to invade and turn into a new home world. And from what they've told me, they must really like Earth, because that's where they want to settle down.

"They came to me and asked why every time they tried something it didn't work. 'Well', I told them, 'You're doing it all wrong. You don't just show up and parade through the streets; that just shouts invasion. If you want to do it properly and take over, you need to do it stealthily'."

He pats the bell gently. "This little beauty will ring for the first time in about, oh - you know what, let's do it earlier - half an hour, so why not use these amazing little bombs these chaps developed to make that 'dong' the last thing everyone ever hears?"

The Cybermen around us stop for a second, a strange whirring and grinding noise coming from each of them. I recognise it as the sound we heard before. "But that doesn't sound like voices.." I mutter to myself.

"I even helped to upgrade them!" Michael states proudly, patting a Cyberman on the back. "Three times stronger and faster mobility. Not bad if I say so myself."

Glancing over my shoulder, I notice that the Doctor doesn't look the slightest bit impressed. "He really doesn't know how much harder that makes our job, does it?" I imagine him thinking.

"Right then, you two" Michael says, grabbing me on the shoulder. "Thanks for coming, it's been a pleasure, but unfortunately we can't have you ruining this."

A group of Cybermen stop what they're doing and shove the Doctor and I onto the bell, throwing a chain around us so that we're pretty much one and the same with the bell. Even through this thick dress I feel the cold metal underneath.

I glare at Michael as he walks over to stroke the side of my face. "Such a shame. A pretty girl like you having to go so soon. Oh well; its for the greater cause."

He laughs and points to one of the Cybermen, saying, "Don't forget, I want you on duty in exactly half an hour to pull that rope and make it ring." He wanders away, leading all of the Cybermen down the stairs, leaving us on our own.

The Doctor shuffles around, trying to reach one of his pockets. "Which one'd I put it in?"

"Your sonic screwdriver?"

"Mm-hmm. I can't remem-"

I interrupt him as I bend my head forward towards him. "Pull out one of the bobby pins."

He gives me a confused look, so I huff in frustration. "Pull it out and unlock us!"

Rather reluctantly he abandons the search for his sonic screwdriver and pulls out a bobby pin. I hear him mutter something in an unfamiliar language as the chain holding us falls away.

"Right," I proclaim. "How much time we got left?"

The Doctor ignores me and - having found his screwdriver - starts opening the silver boxes underneath the bell. Inside each one is some sort of silver block that reminds me of those old Nokia Bricks, but with extra knobs and wires. Pointing his screwdriver at it, the Doctor zaps the brick, releasing a puff of smoke and an inhumane smell. I don't know, maybe Time Lords have a super strong smell sense, but it's nearly knocking me out.

The Doctor notices my rapid coughing and hands me the daisy from his pocket, zapping it with his screwdriver. "That should make it a bit more tolerable."

I take it from his hand and breathe it in, almost fainting from the relief of..what?

"How's that possible?" I ask. "That smells like-"

"Clean, fresh, beautiful air!" The Doctor answers proudly, zapping two boxes at the same time. "Just a simple air bubble pocket around it. Easy Time Lord science. Don't make it too big though; it can go wrong and the molecules on the surface harden very quickly. Not too hard to do on small things, but don't go underwater with one. Trust me, you will regret it."

I nod and tuck the daisy into the front of my dress, relishing in the sweet air that's flooding my nostrils. The Doctor keeps going with his box-zapping operation, but it's taking him a long time. I reckon he's doing maybe one every thirty seconds, which doesn't sound too bad at first.

But then you have to look around the bell and see about fifty or sixty of those boxes, all sitting nonchalantly and innocently.

Sighing, the Doctor curses. "This is going to take forever."

I bend down and start examining one. "How do these things even work?"

"When they're placed next to a source of sound waves, such as a bell," the Doctor explains wearily, "upon the waves being expelled the mechanisms inside will activate and it explodes."

"Sound activated bombs." I repeat to myself. "So science fiction-y that it's not funny."

"What?'

"Nothing, nothing. How else do we stop them besides flashy-thingying them?"

The Doctor looks up. "I honestly don't know. These things are delicate and will go off if we're too lou-"

A Cyberman comes walking back up the stairs, it's fist pointed directly at us. "Umm, now might be a good time to-" The Doctor starts hissing, but I stop him with a hand. I glare at the Cyberman, picking up one of the bombs and giving it my best death stare.

"Right sunshine," I say as menacingly as I can. "Here's the deal. You're gonna let us keep going with this and I won't blast us all sky-high."

The Cyberman doesn't move, but simply says, "DENIED."

I groan. "Fine then. I'll see you in hell."

Before the Doctor can protest, I snatch the sonic screwdriver out of his hand and aim it at the Cyberman, pressing one of the buttons on its side. A bright blue light flies out, causing the Cyberman to freeze up and fall backwards with a loud crash.

The Doctor looks gobsmacked. His mouth opens and closes, but he says nothing.

I toss him the screwdriver and open up another bomb before walking over to the Cyberman, wrapping it up in the chain. "Told you this would get real."

"..You..you used it..as a weapo-what?!" The Doctor stutters, disarming the bomb I opened and moving onto the next. That sunrise coming in through the window isn't a good sign; times running out.

"Self-defence, alright? It would've shot me first."

"You don't know how to-"

I put my hand on his shoulder and force him to look up into my icy cold eyes. "When you've been treated as badly as I have, you get used to firing back with less than ideal plans."

The Doctor still looks surprised, but shrugs it off and sighs as he disarms another bomb. "Well, this is going 'well'."

"Is there ANY other way to get rid of these?!"

"I told you, no!" He snaps back.

I throw my hands up in defence. "Hey, I didn't mean to tick you off, but if you didn't notice, we're all dead at this rate!"

Bad mistake. The Doctor obviously can't take anymore, for he stands up and hands me the screwdriver, the coldest glare I've ever seen in his dark brown eyes. It almost looks as scary as mine.

"You show me then," he hisses, voice dangerously low. "If you're that smart, then you show me how to handle this better!"

At first I can't think of anything, but then I catch sight of the daisy in my dress. "I might have an idea," I mutter, moving back away from the bell.

The Doctor continues to glare but follows along and stands beside me, watching me as I push a few buttons and point the screwdriver at the bell, a blue light slowly emitting a faint bubble-like circle around it.

"Are those air bubble things soundproof?" I ask hastily.

The Doctor grunts, which I take as a yes.

"Alright then," I say, my gaze fully focused on the steadily growing bubble. "Then be prepared for the quietest toll you'll ever hear."

For about a minute the atmosphere is quite tense, with the two of us refusing to look at each other as the bubble expands, wrapping halfway around the bell.

Of course Michael takes that moment to walk up from the stairs, two Cybermen guarding him. He doesn't look too happy and crosses his arms.

"And just what do you think you two are doing?" He says threateningly. The Cybermen raise their fists and point them at the back of our heads. I gulp.

"Killin' you off and saving my grandkids," I reply defensively, continuing to help the bubble grow.

Michael gives a fake laugh and comes forward a bit. "Well, you're certainly doing a fantastic job,"

I freeze when I hear the unmistakeable sound of a gun clicking, with Michael yelling, "But it's not good enough to stop me!"

"And yet again another stupid retort," mutters the Doctor. "I swear, some of you aren't that clever at all."

Understanding what they're supposed to do, the Cybermen stroll forwards and begin to fire. The Doctor pushes me out of the way and onto the ground, the screwdriver still pointed at the bell.

Obviously angry, Michael swears and fires his gun, the bullet nicking the wall above my head. I want to start hyperventilating with fear, but I have to be brave. As silly as it sounds.

The Doctor opens his mouth to tell me something, but I interrupt him rather harshly. "Yes, I know to focus on the bubble. I'm not dying today, especially not looking like this. This outfit is horrifying."

As he gets up and starts running towards the Cybermen, I swear I see a faint smile on his face.

The Doctor practically turns into a ninja, tackling one Cyberman and throwing it against the wall, punches and kicks the other, all while dodging bullets from madman Michael, who's edging himself closer and closer towards me along the wall.

The sonic screwdriver begins to buzz even louder than before, to the point where it's shaking in my hand. The bubble is so close to completion now; my hopes start to rise. As the battle continues on, I notice that the sun is almost fully up. It gives the bell a beautiful but faint glow, almost like a mini halo around it.

Suddenly, Michael throws himself across the room and grabs the Doctor, who is halfway getting up from tackling one of the Cybermen for the fifteenth time. He smiles wickedly as he drags the Doctor over, the black barrel of his handgun pointed at the Time Lord's forehead.

"Now then," Michael hisses. "Stop that thing with that stick and I'll think about letting him live."

I keep my gaze on the men and my hand pointing the sonic screwdriver at the bell. To my surprise, one of the Cybermen behind the Doctor is stumbling to its feet, firing randomly around the room.

One of its 'bullets' hits Michael in the leg, prompting him to let go off the Doctor and hop up and down, screaming in agonising pain.

Before either the Doctor or I can move, he loses his balance and falls backwards, landing in the air bubble just as it closes up. Still obviously cussing his head off through the soundproofing, he bangs his hands rapidly on the inside of the bubble.

"Doctor, get him out of there!" I scream, rushing over and pounding on the bubble. Why the hell does it feel like glass?

All the Doctor does is shrug. "It's too big. We can't get him out."

I look at him in desperation, my eyes threatening to release more tears. "What do you mean?" My voice squeaks slightly. "That's bull...but..you can't just..no, you-"

The Doctor walks over and puts an arm around my shoulder and walks me away, over towards the stairs. "I'm so sorry."

My cheeks become wet with tears as I watch Michael inside, his eyes full of terror as he realises what's about to happen. We stand there in silence as the bell moves inside the bubble, ringing for the first time.

Michael tries to stand up, clutching his ears in apparent agony. His mouth is wide open; I assume he's screaming. I can see blood dripping through his fingers, increasing as each silver box explodes. The last thing we see of him is a river of angry tears running down his face, mixing with his own blood as a red, pink and yellow explosion erupts inside the bubble.

I don't care if it's childish or not, but I bury my face into the Doctor's shoulder. He doesn't seem to mind; he even pulls me into a hug, stroking my hair gently as we watch the explosion. If it wasn't for that fact that there was a human inside who I just helped to kill, I would've said it was pretty.

"I killed him," I whisper shakily. "I killed a man."

"You didn't kill him," the Doctor replies reassuringly.

He puts my head in his hands and shows me the bubble. The explosion is now gone and so is the bubble, but all that remains is blood-stained, shattered pieces of metal and skin, dripping down the sides of the bell, which somehow survived with just a large crack. A golden ring is lying untouched in one of the pools of blood, glittering in the early morning sunlight now coming through the window.

"You didn't kill him," repeats the Doctor. "His stupidity did."

We stand there for a few more minutes, the Doctor being kind enough to let me have a quick nervous breakdown. I still can't believe it. This man is dead. Michael is dead. It still doesn't process in my brain, even as we walk downstairs to where the Cybermen army is waiting.

The Doctor makes me wait outside while he discusses something with Cran and a Cyberman leader. I sniff and let the tears flow as I lean against a nearby pole, enjoying the cool touch beneath my fingertips. I'm still shaking, and I definitely know it's not because of the chill lurking in the air.

After a few minutes the Doctor walks out, his face swiftly changing from grim to happy the second he sees me.

"So what happens now?" I ask quietly, desperately trying to stop shaking.

"Well, the Cybermen are goin'. At least for now," He replies. "Told 'em there's no point in them hanging around for their end of the deal, cause, y'know.."

"Yeah."

"Not sure what Cran's doing. He'll probably go and find the money to clean up our mess. And as for us," He draws a breath, "that's up to you."

I sniff and clean my glasses, talking as we walk to and enter the Tardis. "Well..there's no point in going home. At least, not now. I've got nothing there that's worth trying to live for. No family members that are still alive to care, no friends to hang out with."

The Doctor takes my hand. "Would you like to come with me?"

I look at him. "What, and travel with you?"

"No, I want you to do a backflip and go home," the Doctor jokes, quickly growing serious again. "It's been a while since I've had a companion. Maybe, y'know, if you wanted, you could-"

I ignore what else he was going to say and throw my arms around him, letting the tears flow again. Only this time they're happy tears.

"Yes," I whisper. "Of friggin course yes."

"Well then," the Doctor says cheerfully, giving me a quick hug and then letting go. "In that case, allons-y!"

He throws down a switch and presses a few buttons, the familiar whirring sound emitting from the Tardis. I smile and undo my hair before rushing over to help him.

We laugh and talk for a while before deciding to land on an empty planet and have a couple of days to recover. It gives me a chance to get to know where everything is onboard and just enjoy being able to talk with someone again. As I lie in bed one night, I start crying for no reason. Which actually isn't true.

Because I think I've just found my ticket out of hell.


	3. Three - Touch Screen

**Three**

Touch Screen

I stab my fork into my chicken, silently grinning as the juicy taste erupts in my tastebuds. The dinner I made tonight actually turned out really nice.

I'm still waiting to see if the Doctor likes it, though. Still think he's lying when he said he's never tried chicken before.

"You're, what, nine hundred years old?" I had asked. "How can you have not tried Earth chicken before?"

He'd shrugged. "Never took the time to."

"Rubbish!"

That conversation took up most of dinner, though now we were just eating in silence. The Tardis groaned and wheezed every now and then, but after a week being onboard I'm kinda used to it now.

"So," I say casually. "What do you think of twenty-first century Earth?"

I expect to have to wait for him to finish his mouthful, but I guess they don't have that rule where he's from, because he just started talking anyway.

"Not bad. You humans have come a long way by this point," He replies. "Took you long enough to invent decent technology, though."

I pretend to be offended, taking my phone out of my pocket. "So basically you're calling this amazing piece of technology rubbish."

"What? No!" He replies. "I just-"

"Have you ever even used an iPhone before?" I ask.

He takes another bite, still looking confused. "What's that?"

"Nine hundred years old and yet the last Time Lord in existence hasn't heard of a freaking iPhone?"

"Yeah?"

"Probably the best piece of machinery humans have made so far."

"Always found them..confusing," the Doctor admits. "Don't remember if Rose had one or not, but I still don't understand how they work or anything."

"Do you want to learn how?"

The Doctor nods. "Guess so."

"Right then!" I say, pressing the home button. I smile as my lock screen wallpaper flashes up; the Doctor isn't as amused.

"Why do you have a photo of a raccoon?" He asks.

"Because it's cute."

"Hmm. Alright, what now?"

"Well, if you're smart - such as myself - you put a password on it to stop snoopers from getting in,"

I slide my finger to the right and present the Doctor with a keypad of numbers. Tapping on the numbers I need, the keypad disappears and my home screen replaces it, the picture behind it confusing the Doctor even further, but I choose to ignore it.

"So now you've got all these little squares on the screen. These are called apps," I explain, "and each one has a different purpose. Like that one with the yellow notepad paper is different to the ones with the yellow bird."

The Doctor puts down his fork and slides the screen across to the second page. "What are all these ones?"

I look over. "They're games."

"Including the folder that says 'keep the hell out'?"

"Yeah. Totally."

"Okay. How do I make a phone call?"

"You press the little green box with the phone symbol."

He taps on it and it takes him to my recent calls list. "Why is it empty?"

"Because I've got no one worth calling," I tell him honestly. "Have you at least heard of email?"

"Yes; I haven't been living under a total rock, you know."

"Good. I'd be really sad if you didn't. Text messages?"

"Yes."

"The App Store?"

"Yes."

"Flappy Bird?"

"What?"

I laugh. "Never mind."

The Doctor slowly nods and pulls the phone towards him. "Okay. Well, thank you for that. You don't mind if..?"

"You look at it? Nah, not at all," I reply, taking another bite. "Go ahead, sunshine."

Forgetting all about his chicken, the Doctor leaps up with my phone and sprints out of the dining room, leaving me to finish eating on my own. I sit there, waiting patiently for him to come back, but he doesn't.

I wash up my plate and reheat his meal, but he hasn't come back.

I eat a bowl of ice cream and wash that up as well, but he still hasn't showed up.

Groaning, I reheat his meal one more time and leave the room, heading to have a long, warm shower in my bathroom. The tiled floor is smooth beneath my feet, but thankfully isn't cold. Gotta find out how this Tardis can put heaters in the floor.

Turning the hot water knob, I tilt my head back and take in the steamy air, the water cascading through my hair and down my back. It would've been perfect if the Doctor hadn't taken my phone. I was looking forward to having a Fall Out Boy concert tonight.

"No matter," I mutter, rinsing the shampoo out. "I'll live with this instead."

I take a deep breath and begin to belt out lyrics, all while dancing and washing my hair at the same time.

The door of the bathroom opens and I scream out of fright, accidentally letting the conditioner run down my face and into my eyes. Through the steamy glass of the shower door I can make out the Doctor's features, clearly unnerved by the fact that he's just invaded my privacy.

I swear at him and stick my head out of the door. "Oi, mate! Get out!"

He's holding my phone and is still unaffected by anything about the current situation. Pressing something on the screen, he doesn't look up as he says, "So this thing's told me that you're good at English, you hate avocados - and who the hell is this boy 'Isaac'?"

I reach out to grab my towel and wrap it around myself. "Get off my damn phone."

The Doctor moves back through the door, but not before asking, "Sorry, is this a girl thing? I don't remem-"

I cut him off by sprinting towards him, prompting him to run out of the room and back to my room. Forget about being decent and polite; I end up hollering and swearing at this man while chasing him down the Tardis hallways.

"I leave you with my phone for, what, two hours and THAT'S what you decide to look at? Dude, that's personal stuff you're lookin' at! That'd be like me deciding to go and research all about aliens discover what your weaknesses are!"

He skids to a halt and glares at me, folding his arms. "What'd you call me?"

"Alien," I spit, tightening the towel. "It's a human wor-"

"I am perfectly aware of where the word came from and I don't appreciate being called that," The Doctor snaps angrily.

"Well what else do you want me to call yous?" I retort. "There isn't any other word besides 'alien'!"

"Look, why are even talking about this?" He asks, annoyed.

"We wouldn't be if you hadn't decided to snoop through my phone!"

"But you said I could look-"

"I didn't mean that you could go through my private life and read about all of the horrible things I've done!"

"Listen to me," the Doctor says, but I cut him off again.

"Give me a reason why I should! You have no right to-"

"You entrusted me with your phone and therefore gave me full access to everything that's on i-"

"Shut it!"

"Fine! I wanted to get to know more about you!" The Doctor shouts, startling me. I walk closer to him and go for my phone, but he puts it away. "You've been so damn quiet since I met you and I just wanted to have one companion who I knew what could break them so that I could try to make sure that it didn't happ-"

My eyes water slightly as I interrupt. "Well you didn't have to go to all that trouble to find out. You could've just asked and I would've told ya."

I grab my phone out from his pocket and walk back to the shower, turning up the volume and pressing shuffle, the first song ending up being 'Chasing Cars'. The hauntingly depressing beats echo in my ears as I rinse what was left of my conditioner away, the lyrics breaking my heart as I sing.

I hear a knocking on the door. Ignoring it I let the playlist roll over to the next song, 'Welcome to My Life.'

The Doctor continues. "Dakota, listen-"

That's it. I bang against the glass of the shower and almost scream out the chorus.

After my meltdown, I turn off the shower, hurriedly dry myself off and throw on my clothes, opening the door a few minutes later to find the Doctor sitting on the edge of my bed, his eyes slightly red.

"Look, Dakota, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done it. It was such an invasion of privacy and well; I've hardly known you for more than a few days."

He takes a breath and rubs his eyes again. "I guess I've missed having someone around. Someone who I could get to know from the very beginning. Loved Rose to pieces, but I already knew almost everything about her. And I miss her so much, Dakota, I miss-"

I walk over and wrap my arms around him as he finally lets go, watching him sob uncontrollably. It feels weird watching a grown man cry, but at least that shows he's got some humanity in him.

We sit for a while as I wait for him to calm down, but it doesn't look as though he can repress it long enough to get any words out. The more he cries, the broken I can tell he is. How much he's suffered. How _lonely_ he is.

Finally, his breathing steadies and he looks up.

"It's been so long since I could m-muck around and enjoy having someone w-with me," he whispers. "All I wanted to learn from that phone was what you enjoyed doing. C-Could've surprised you on your birthday or something. But it doesn't matter anymore. You'll already know what's coming before it happens."

I sit next to him, my arm still wrapped around his shoulders. "..you know, I had a feeling when we met that you were burdened with something. The constant smiling, the willingness to talk to a total stranger; I know all the signs, Doctor. Just admit it; you're broken."

He remains in silence, tears leaking from his eyes.


	4. Four - All for a Drink

**Four**

All for a Drink

"Doctor?"

I look up from the Tardis console. Dakota is fiddling with her school uniform tie. She asks, "What's the point of me goin' to school? I got nothing there to care about."

"Besides your grades?"

"Yeah, that, but I don't wanna go to uni, so what's the point?"

"You'll have people asking who kidnapped you," I reply, flipping another switch. The Tardis groans and sets itself down with a gentle thump.

"Today's Friday, yeah?" I ask, getting a nod from Dakota. "In that case, you've got the weekend tomorrow anyway, so you might as well go."

She finishes braiding her hair. "Alright."

I lean on the console as she picks up her bag and heads to the doors of the Tardis. "Meet me back here around four," I tell her as she hurries outside.

She's such a mysterious girl. One minute happy, the next depressed. It's been so long since I've had a companion like that; don't even think Adric was that young. Was he fifteen? I forget now, it was that long ago.

"I am getting old."

I wander through the corridors of the Tardis to the kitchen, opening the fridge and looking through all of my available options. "You're kidding me. There's nothing left in here besides Craxiatanian Chardonay?"

Feeling incredibly ripped off, I slam the door shut and pace up and down the room, switching between arms crossed and hands in pockets. Eventually, after a few mental calculations, I come up with a brilliant plan.

"Let's try a human beverage instead."

On my way out of the Tardis, I grab a wallet and lock the door behind me, slipping the key into one of my pockets before taking off across the road opposite Dakota's school. She lives in **such** a beautiful neighbourhood. Not quite as awesome as some parts of Gallifrey, but very close.

At least this place has kangaroos. No kangaroos on Gallifrey.

I slink around the nearby streets, looking for any signs of what Dakota called 'the milkbar'. Eventually, I turn onto Meadglen Drive and there sits a small brick building with 'Convenience Store' and 'Fish & Chip' signs, faded from the sun. The faded blue of the sign contrasts nicely with the orange bricks making up the footpath.

"They could touch it up a bit, but oh well."

No bell rings as I enter the store, the only sound coming from the slam of the door as it shuts. The bored checkout lady glances up for a second before going back to whatever magazine she's reading. I'm surprised how much they can fit into such a small place; rows upon rows of chips, chocolate and even detergent fill the store, with a small section to the right exclusively for drinks.

Just as I suspected. This place does sell milk.

I stroll over to the line of fridges across the wall, some filled with soft drink, others with milky drinks and the rest with other brands I have never heard of. "What's a Red Bull?" I mutter to myself, opening one of the doors.

I can't decide what to try. I've tried a Big M before - they are beautiful - and that Solo lemonade was too strong for me.

That's when a small red can with white text on the side catches my attention. It's a beautiful colour; I take it out of the fridge and look over it, feeling how smooth the aluminium is beneath my fingertips. Humans have a great talent for making things look pretty.

"You gonna stop strokin' that can, mister?"

I turn away from the can to see a little boy standing directly in front of me. He looks about seven or eight, with curly red hair, too many freckles to count and a black T-shirt with a skull and crossbones printed on it. Calmly, he continues to stare at me, taking regular sips of whatever drink he's holding.

"I'm sorry, what?" I reply, stunned.

The boy crosses his arms and strikes what I could only describe as the sassiest pose a kid his age could pull off. "You look like you've never _seen_ a can of Coke before."

"That's not true," I say. "Well, okay, I've seen pictures, but I've never act-"

"Have you been living under a rock?" The boy's mouth drops open.

A man looking through the ice cream fridge turns around and scolds the boy; I guess he's his father. They look the same, only that the dad has green eyes instead of blue.

"Caleb, don't say that to people. It's very rude," The man turns away from his son and looks at me. "I'm so sorry, he just says things without thinking; y-you know what kids are like,"

I wave my hand dismissively. "Don't worry, it's no problem. Plenty of experience with children so I know the feeling."

The man nods. "Teenagers?"

My heart aches for a moment. It's been so long since I last saw my kids; since I last saw my grandkids. I miss Susan badly. "No, I'm afraid they've all grown up," I reply. "Haven't seen them for a while."

"Ah, okay," The man looks sorry for me. "Problems with the wife or..?"

"Yeah..kind of. Anyway," I say, moving the conversation away. "I didn't catch your name; I'm the Doctor."

"Nice to meet you," The man shakes my hand and points to his son. "Well, you already know Caleb and I'm Darren."

"Darren," I mumble. "That's a cool name. Don't think I've met a Darren before."

"Well I'll admit, it's not a very common," Darren replies.

The door swings open, a heavily pregnant woman carrying an impressive number of empty shopping bags waddles inside. Darren and I rush over to help her, signalling a sigh of relief as she stretches her back.

"Thank you," She says gratefully. "My husband usually helps me out, but of course the lazy moron is at home watching the footy. 'Go do the shopping, Janet! Go get the mail, Janet!' **OH!** How I want to throw stuff at him sometimes."

I raise my eyebrow. "Bad day?"

"You have no idea."

Both of us run around grabbing what she needs, with Caleb pitching in to give a hand and feeling very proud of himself. A few minutes later Janet stands at the counter of the store, waiting impatiently for the checkout lady to look up from her magazine. It's funny and awkward to watch, but when I can't take it any longer, I march over and snap my fingers next to the lady's ear. She jumps in surprise before glaring at me.

"I am perfectly capable of doing my job, thank you," She mutters, scanning the first item.

Janet just stares on politely. "Not having a good day, Li?"

"Absolute crap," She replies. "Had a lady come in this morning who was unbelievably racist to me and all I did was point to where the chips were."

I shake my head. "It's disgusting, to be honest."

"I hate being targeted," Li says honestly. "Okay, that's forty-five thirty please."

Janet grumbles as she opens her purse. "If my husband would stop eatin' three bloody packets of Pringles a week, maybe we'd be able to afford petrol."

Just as she's about to hand over the money, the door swings open again. Only this time, five masked men in full body black suits storm inside, pulling out handguns and somehow surrounding all of us almost instantly. A sixth man calmly strolls inside, his hands behind his back. Pulling off his impressively dark sunglasses he snarls, "Get your hands up. Now. If anyone tries to scream, you'll all be dead within seconds."

I raise my eyebrow in suspicion, but reluctantly I put my hands up, as do the others. Poor Caleb is terrified, but there's no time for hugs and kisses and 'You'll be okay's.

"What do you want?" I demand. "If you're looking for the bank, you've definitely come to the wrong pl-"

One of the men flies out and punches me in the chest. I double over, one of my hearts suddenly flattening out. The pain comes lightning fast; I put my hand to my chest, clutching rather tightly on my shirt.

 _Ow._

"Right then," The main guy announces, pulling out his own gun. "Sorry to barge in on your lovely morning, but we're looking for a man who is wanted for multiple cases of murder."

Panting, I desperately try to restart the flatlined heart. So far, nothing is working. _Breathe, Doctor. Breathe._ I can feel it twitching, but it's not cooperating.

 _Oh, just hurry up_ , I think.

I try once more, pounding my chest on all sides, succeeding after a few seconds. Shouldn't take that long. I wonder if something is up, but no time to worry about it now.

I still can't breathe, so I signal to Darren to ask the men a question. Thankfully, he seems to be smart, as he bravely asks, "Multiple cases of murd-what? Are you the police?"

"No," The man says.

"FBI?"

"No."

"CIA!"

"For the last time, we're not part of anything!" The man loses his patience, pointing his gun at Darren's head. I notice that his voice briefly changed, going from a rough male voice to a harsh, raspy tone. He takes a moment to calm himself. "We are an independent organisation."

"Called..what?" I splutter.

The man tears his gaze away from Darren to stare directly at me. All I can see in his expression is a cold, blank stare with glaring green eyes.

"You may have heard of us, **Doctor**."

He pauses, giving me a twisted smile.

"Okay, what's go-" I start, but we watch on in disgust as the man begins to distort and change before us, his body morphing with a sickening squelching sound. Caleb hides behind his father, while I simply cross my arms and give a disapproving look at the hideous red creature now standing in the place of the man.

"Oh, of course," I say sarcastically. "Why am I not surprised; you're a Zygon. Whoop de doo."

"Silence!" The Zygon hisses angrily. It points a sucker-covered arm at me. "You will come with us, Doctor!"

"Wait, wh-what was with the whole 'murder charges' plot?" I laugh. "You seriously think I would fall for a story like that?"

"I said silence!"

Both ladies are almost hysterical with fear. Even Darren appears to be frightened, clutching Caleb tightly to him. I turn to face each man surrounding us, all of them transforming back into Zygon form. It's a revolting sight, I'll admit. I've seen many disgusting things in the universe; they are among the worst.

"Why do you need me?" I put my hands in my pockets and nonchalantly stroll right up to the main Zygon. "Better yet, what will you do if I don't come?"

The Zygon doesn't answer. It continues to bare its hideous yellow teeth, all of which end in a sharp point. Reminds me of that time I met Dracula, though at least his teeth were clean.

I sway from side to side and whistle. "I'm wai-"

A blow to the back of my neck cuts me off. Gasping in shock, I'm too weak to fight the sucker-covered arms grabbing my hands and handcuffing them behind my back. The cold sharpness of the metal digs into my wrists, almost slicing them. Two more arms grab my shoulders and force me to walk rather hurriedly out of the milkbar, unable to turn around and face the Zygons behind me. My struggling is useless; Zygons are ridiculously strong, even for a fit Time Lord.

Almost as quickly as it all happened, the Zygons who grabbed me suddenly let go, falling to the concrete in a heap. Darren is standing next to them, panting.

He glances up and hurries over. "They're stronger than they look," He remarks, fiddling with the handcuffs helplessly. "But what the hell are they?"

"How do I explain it..aliens?" I say, my tone of voice rising. "Now, just hurr-"

The Zygons spring back up, tackling and knocking Darren out almost effortlessly. I catch a glimpse of him before the suckery arms led his limp body away. A trickle of blood drips from his nose, staining his lips and the concrete of the car park. Caleb throws the door of the milkbar open and screams at the sight of his father; anger fills me in that I cannot help him.

I wait until we're halfway down the street before daring to ask a question. "Alright. Drop the cover story. Mind explaining is going on?"

The head Zygon - who has morphed back into the man with the black business suit - increases his pace so he can walk beside me. "Our planet was destroyed in the Time War. We have been looking for a planet of refuge, but everyone turned us away. Our leaders resorted to violence, attempting to conquer planets instead of living with the inhabitants. Many of us died."

"So you want Earth instead."

The Zygon nods. "UNIT is our only option. So we decided to demand UNIT for control over the planet in exchange for your life, since we know how important you are to them."

I click my tongue and smirk. "Is **this** what you're reducing yourself to? You do realise it'll never work? No, UNIT's too smart for you."

"Silence!" The Zygon glances across the road and hurriedly growls something in his own language, the remaining others squelching their way back into human form within seconds. Before I can wonder what they were worried about, I look over the road and see a couple of police out the front of the high school, talking to someone that I can't see.

Luckily for me, one of the cops moves away and heads inside. In her baggy skirt and loose tie is Dakota, shaking the hand of the other officer as they begin to go their separate ways. She picks up her school books from a nearby bench and pops her headphones in.

She's my only way to get out of this mess.

I scream out her name as loud as I can before I'm silenced with a hand. My captors hurry me down the road, ignoring my squirming. I try to look over to see if Dakota heard me, but she glances around for a second before shrugging and opening the door to one of the buildings.

My hearts sink. I fight and fight the grip of the Zygons, using every ounce of strength left in my body. I manage to slip the hand away quick enough for me to cry out her name again.

Dakota stops and pulls one of her headphones out. She turns and her neutral expression quickly melts into one of horror, dashing over the road while screaming out for the police inside.

One of the Zygons curses in their language. "We must hurry!"

Within seconds my feet are bound, my tie is pulled around my mouth and I'm thrown over the shoulders of two Zygons, who start to sprint as fast as possible away from the school. Both officers are now pursuing us, as is Dakota, all of whom are screaming out for the Zygons to halt. I have never seen her run that fast, but damn can she sprint.

Despite the tie, I try calling out to her again, with only a muffled noise leaving my mouth. In some aspects there's no point to this, as she already knows I'm in trouble.

 _Must be a human thing_.

The Zygon carrying me is not the best of runners, jostling my body around on its shoulders. It's a disgusting feeling, though at the moment I decide that's not important to worry about. A shoulder digs into my chest - at least, I think it's a shoulder - rather roughly onto one of my hearts.

I can feel it flatline again.

"Doctor!"

Dakota is screaming my name amongst profanities at the Zygons, but I can barely hear it. I focus all my energy on my heart, excruciating pain evolving as a result. Normally when this happens I can move my hands to restart it, but it looks like this time I'll have to use a more drastic method.

"Doctor, hang on!"

I mumble in pain as the Zygons hurry around a corner, an old and broken fence blocking my view of Dakota and the pursuing police. My captor holds my legs to its body, now preventing any form of movement.

Or so it thinks.

I wait a few seconds before thrusting myself sideways as hard as I can, slipping out of the Zygon's grip. The Zygon is too big to react quick enough and I tumble to the ground, my nose taking a rather nasty fall. I groan through the tie; blood is beginning to drip from the source of pain.

A suckery arm grabs my shoulders. I hurriedly roll sideways again, sliding gently off the concrete footpath down into a dirt-filled ditch. I was expecting it to be really rough and uncomfortable, but it seems this time I'm lucky.

That quickly changes as I slam into a pile of leaves. Only its not leaves.

And of course there has to be a prickly bush to break my descent.

I mumble a curse. Oh how my head hurts. I'll have countless bruises after this. Just brilliant.

"Leave him!" Another Zygon yells. "We've been spotted!"

My heart starts beating again. I sigh in relief and try to relax. The sounds of suckers on concrete fades away as normal footsteps enter my range of hearing. If I try to roll over I'll be blinded with thorns, so in a sense I'm trapped.

"Where'd he go?" Dakota says.

I try getting her attention, but to no avail.

She calls out my name again. It takes a second for me to remember that she told me she's slightly deaf in one ear; I guess she must be using that ear to listen for me. My mumbles are too quiet.

"They must've gotten away," A policeman says angrily. "Miss, I'll have to ask you to remain behind while we pursue those..things."

"Of course officer. I'll keep an eye out here."

"Thank you. Now come on, you lot!"

I wait for the sounds of footsteps to pass, leaving the world around me silent. Dakota must be pacing - I can hear something. I call out again.

"Doctor?!" She cries. She's getting worried. This is not good. I try rolling around in the bush, only to stop when prickles pierce my suit. My vision is still blocked by the leaves; I can't risk moving unless I want to poke my eyes out.

Dakota sighs in frustration and walks away. Groaning, I angrily kick out at the leaves surrounding me, pricks of pain shooting up my legs. The bush made a fair bit of noise; at least, to me it did.

Out of nowhere a pair of arms rolls me out and (although with much difficulty) props me up against the fence behind the damned bush. It takes a second for my eyes to focus; Dakota is on her knees, untying my feet.

I mumble in annoyance at her. She looks up and glares.

"You know I could just leave you like that."

At first I think she's joking, but she legitimately means it. I call out in protest as she stands up and starts walking back up the hill.

Sighing, she comes back down. "Who knows. Maybe when you start singing to your Tardis I'll know what to do."

I just glare as she loosens my tie and places it back where it's supposed to be. "What was that all about, huh? Did you not hear me?"

"Oh don't worry, I did," Dakota snaps. "I thought it'd be less awkward for you if you didn't have a whole bunch of coppers finding you trussed up in a bush."

I nod. "You get used to it, but yes."

She removes the bonds around my wrists and helps me to stand. I brush some stray leaves off my suit. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it," she says. "But what now? And what the hell are they?"

"Shapeshifting aliens who need a planet," I launch into a sprint. "Allons-y!"

"Doctor!" Dakota shouts, blocking my path. "Can't we just let them be?"

My eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"

"They need a planet. Why can't they just move in here?"

I pulled out my sonic screwdriver, waving up and down Dakota's body. Or at least, someone who looked like Dakota.

"If you stop this madness, I can help you find a home."

'Dakota' began to morph and shimmer, transforming into a Zygon. "We have decided Earth will suit our purposes."

"Yes, it's a nice place, but it's already occupied!" I say in exasperation. "...Tell you what. Why don't you try Altoona III? That's empty and full of land for you to conquer!"

The Zygon attempts to punch me, but I duck just in time. Swinging my legs around I slam into the back of where I think its knees are; it falls to the ground, struggling to get up.

I point my screwdriver at its head. "Get your friends down here. We have some discussing to do. Including where my companion is."

"But what I don't get, Doctor," Dakota says, sipping a cup of tea, "is how the hell you got them to leave."

"It took a lot of convincing, lemme tell you," I answer. "Eventually I came up with some argument about how they'll assimilate into human society by disguising themselves and they didn't like the sound of that."

Dakota smiles, wrapping herself tighter in a blanket. "Thank you for finding me, by the way. They got me as soon as I saw you, and it's hard getting people's attention when you're tied up in a school bathroom."

"It seems we've both been tied up with various things today," I attempt a pun to no avail.

"That's the other thing - what on Earth were you doing before those morons came along?"

I laugh. "...I tried to buy a drink."

"So literally everything that happened today was all for a drink?!"

"Pretty much."


End file.
